


Stepping Up

by hopecanbeyoursword



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter figures out his place in the post decimation world, Peter tries to cope, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Spider-Man: Far From Home Trailer, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopecanbeyoursword/pseuds/hopecanbeyoursword
Summary: “You going to be the next Iron Man now?”“The world needs the next Iron Man, and I’m just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”“The whole world is looking for the next Iron Man. I don’t know if I can live up to that.“Are you going to step up, or not?”The world wants to know who is going to fill Tony’s shoes, now that Iron Man is gone. They turn to Spider-Man for answers, but Peter Parker just wants to grieve in peace. That is, until Fury recruits him for a mission, and he decides what he wants to do, who he wants to be.





	Stepping Up

Peter was tired.

Whenever he was able to force himself to go out as Spider-Man, everyone kept asking him if he was going to be the next Iron Man. It had become general knowledge that he and the fallen hero had been close. But every time someone asked him, Peter wanted to curl into himself. He was still grieving, for everyone they lost, including Natasha and, most importantly to him, Tony. Peter was also still trying to grapple with the fact that he had died. Had been dead for five years while what was left of the world struggled to find a new normal. People had learned to move on. Teachers had retired, classmates had graduated high school and were now in college. And Tony and Pepper had a daughter.

Life had gone on without him, and he was struggling to find his place in the world again. He had May, Ned, and MJ, but sometimes, they weren’t enough. There was so much he had seen and experienced that they could never understand. They hadn’t fought against Thanos, hadn’t had to fight for the safety of the universe. They weren’t in the army that clashed with the army of the mad titan. Peter had watched heroes fall, remembered the sick feeling in his stomach when he passed a body that was no longer moving. He was still a teenager, and he had joined the ranks of the Avengers. Everyone had been counting on them.

But the worst thing had been standing with Pepper Potts and James Rhodes as Tony Stark took his last breath. 

 

* * *

Peter had been in a haze for two weeks after the funeral. He made the motions, but his mind was far away, stuck in the war, stuck besides Pepper and Rhodey, stuck in Tony’s last moments. Peter knew his aunt and friends were worried, that every time he would stare blankly at a wall, or forget that someone was talking to him, or be found in the exact same position five hours later having not moved, they were afraid they were losing him for good. But he couldn’t stop.

The Spider-Man suits hanging in his closet were the hardest things to look at. They had all been designed and given to him by Tony. Everything reminded him of the man, and for three weeks, there was no sight or sign of Spider-Man. No one, except those who knew Peter was the hero, knew if he was dead or alive.

One night, all the pain and grief got to be too much for Peter, and he needed out of his small apartment, needed away from the life that moved on without him. And maybe New York had, too. But they hadn’t forgotten him. There were a few small memorials for him, from those who thought he might have died in the war. There were Spider-Man posters in half of the stores in the city, hoping their hero was okay.

Their belief in him settled something in Peter that hadn’t felt right since he returned to life. Even though it hurt to put the suit on, to stare at his masked self in the mirror, and to hear the familiar, comforting voice of Karen again, the pounding in his head disappeared.

Everything seemed to melt away the minute he started swinging through the air, the wind whistling in his ears. 

It made it that much worse when he returned home, and everything hit him like a freight train, like another building had been dropped on him.

And maybe that’s why Peter threw himself into being Spider-Man again, until he drove himself to exhaustion, falling asleep before the nightmares could start. Because he wasn’t Peter Parker, who had lost and seen so much, and would never be okay again. Instead, he was Spider-Man, vigilante-turned-hero-turned-Avenger, who made sarcastic quips and puns when webbing up villains, who the city could count on. He felt braver with the mask on.

So he spent his nights swinging through the city, giving people directions, returning stolen bikes, rescuing kittens out of trees, stopping bank robberies and muggings, walking people home at night. He beat the cops to every big crime, everything already taken care of by the time they arrived. Though he was doing their job, something about the way he talked must’ve conveyed to them that he needed this, this escape. So they thanked him, praised him, instead of yelling, like they might have before everything.

It helped Peter forget what had happened for the most part, save for the murals and memorials for Tony Stark, Iron-Man, scattered through the city. Seeing them made Peter want to cry, so he learned to avoid them for the most part. He wanted to forget, push it aside, act like it never happened, even though he knew it wasn’t healthy, that it would always be at the back of his mind.

Then the questions started.

“You going to be the next Iron Man now?” A cop asked him as they took in the scene before them, the criminals webbed up, the money safely stacked on a table with the guns.

Peter stopped cold in his tracks. He knew, logically, that the world was hoping for someone to step up to be one of the Earth’s protectors. After all, there was a new Captain America. But Peter couldn’t imagine anyone taking Tony’s place, least of all, him. Why would the world want a teenager who was grieving to take over? Sure, they didn’t know who he was, but it was clear to everyone how close he had been to the former hero. He had the tech, the suits, and had been seen entering Avengers’ buildings. Iron Man and Spider-Man had been seen working together in the city before the so-called Infinity War, making jokes, and stopping for ice cream. To the world, it made sense that whoever Spider-Man was would step up.

Peter stumbled over his words, before making an excuse to leave.

 

* * *

 

To Peter, there was no one who he would be okay with taking over Tony’s legacy, but he also didn’t want the legacy to die. He was at an impasse with himself.

“The world needs the next Iron Man, and I’m just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter was looking up at the ceiling, unable to face his aunt straight on. “I want to do more, but at the same time, I never want to go out again. I can’t… everywhere I go, I see his face. I can’t… I can’t come to terms on my own time when he’s everywhere. And of course I don’t want him to be forgotten, but it makes it hard. Why are they so focused on him? Why not Nat? Doesn’t she deserve the same?” Peter felt strongly about the fact, but if Black Widow memorials took the place of some of Iron Man’s, it would make Peter’s life easier. He felt bad about it, but couldn’t help it. He just needed to be away from everything.

“Sweetie,” May looked at her nephew. He had been through so much during his short life, and she wished she could take away all of his pain. “You don’t have to be what everyone else wants you to be, unless that’s what _you_ want. I just want you to figure out what you want. I’ll be here for you, no matter what you chose. You can be Peter, you can be Spider-Man, you can even be Iron Man if you want. I’m not going to lie; it’s hard to know you’re out there getting hurt, even if you’re saving others. But I know there’s no stopping you, and I wouldn’t want to. I won’t stop you from being yourself.”

Peter couldn’t help the tears that gathered in his eyes as he allowed his aunt to hug him.

 

* * *

Being around Happy and Pepper and Rhodes and Morgan was hard for Peter. He didn’t want it to be; they had also lost Tony. A friend, a brother, a husband, a father. Rhodes and Pepper had also been there at the end, and Peter was very aware of how many times they had almost seen Tony die in the past.

So Peter tried. He and May joined Pepper and Morgan for dinner, and Peter gave Morgan piggyback rides. He took over the upgrades of Rhodes’ braces, and allowed Happy to escort him to missions that were further away, or drive him down the the cabin on every other weekend. He drew pictures with Morgan, and laid flowers on Tony’s grave with Pepper. Even though he rarely spoke to them unless directly asked a question, still trapped in his head, he started to appreciate the patchwork family they were creating.

When Morgan looked up at him one night, and asked him a question, Peter finally broke.

“Daddy missed you a lot when you were gone. Did you miss him?”

“I still do,” was all Peter was able to choke out. After handing Morgan over to Pepper, who was looking worriedly at him, sadness also clear in her eyes, Peter ran to the room he had in the cabin.

He cried, the floodgates opening. For the first time since everything had happened, he let himself really feel. Peter didn’t know how long he was alone, before May gently knocked on his door. She made her way over to the bed, situating herself next to him. She pulled him into her arms, whispering soothing words as she ran her hand through his hair, letting him cry.

It reminded her too much of Peter’s first night with her and Ben after his parents died, of the first night without Ben. Her heart hurt for the child in her arms, not for the first time, and far from the last.

 

* * *

It was easier for Peter, after that night in the cabin, away from the prying eyes of New York, wrapped up in his aunt’s arms. That didn’t make it easy, however.

He confided to Happy, one day, on the plane they were taking. They were returning from a mission, and some of the new reporters that had ganged up on him afterwards had asked him, yet again, if he was going to be the new Iron Man.

“The whole world is looking for the next Iron Man. I don’t know if I can live up to that.” Peter’s eyes were wet, and he felt exhausted, tiredness seeping deep into his bones. 

Happy took in the worn-down teenager in front of him. Peter used to be a pretty happy kid, talking fifty miles a minute, bouncing up and down in his seat, excited for his next mission, or lab visit. Now, the kid looked years older, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. He was way too worn down for someone his age, and it was clear to the man in that moment how much Peter had been suffering. He was better than he was a week ago, but it was clear Peter wasn’t truly enjoying missions anymore. Not knowing if it was his place to say it, but deciding it needed to be said anyways, Happy turned to look the kid in the eye, voice serious.

“I don’t think Tony would’ve done what he did if he didn’t know you were going to be here after he was gone.” He didn’t want to guilt the kid even more, but Peter deserved to know how important he was to the fallen hero. It was clear how important Tony was to Peter, and he needed to know the feelings were reciprocated. “He wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to be what the world wanted. He always knew you were going to be better than him, better than the other Avengers. He told me. So…” Happy hesitated. He wasn’t one to give teenagers pep talks. “Do what you want, and don’t worry about them. You’re not the only hero. You don’t have to take on everything by yourself.”

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter tried to smile, but his watery eyes made it clear that the talk had only done so much. 

“Of course, kid.”

 

* * *

“Are you going to step up, or not?” Fury stared at the teenager in front of him.

Peter’s trip had not gone the way he planned it to go. He had been recruited by Nick Fury of all people to stop a new villain. His summer vacation was hijacked, and instead of enjoying the sights, Peter had to make sure his classmates stayed safe. For the first time in months, he felt the fire igniting in his stomach. People he cared about were in danger, and he needed to save them. 

“I’m not Iron Man,” Peter wanted to make that clear. “I can’t be. No one can replace Tony. But… I can’t be just Spider-Man, not anymore. I was Spider-Man, before the decimation. I’m not the same person anymore. But I can’t leave that identity behind, either. I can’t forget who I was. I became Spider-Man after my Uncle Ben died. He made me want to save others, since I couldn’t save him. Leaving the title behind feels like I’m betraying him. But I can’t forget what Tony did for me, for the world. I am who I am today because of him. So… I’m not Iron Man, but I can’t be Spider-Man. I want to be both. The Iron Spider suit lets me be both. You giving me a suit and recruiting me for this mission is not going to change that.”

Fury nodded approvingly. For the first time, he was seeing the Peter that Tony had known. The fierce determination, the unwavering loyalty to those he cared about, the wish to do good in the world, to protect people. He was still young, and had much to learn. But Fury had to admit that Tony was right.

Peter was going to be better than them.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Peter isn't just Spider-Man anymore, but he can't be Iron Man, either. So he finds a compromise.
> 
> I wanted to write how I think Peter would feel about the questions aimed to his alter-ego in the FFH trailers. Like Clint, he can't be who he was before the decimation. But he can't leave his old self behind, so he struggles to find a balance in a world that is looking for a new Iron Man, and thus, turns to him.
> 
> I still reject Endgame as canon, but I really wanted to write this. Also, as much as I appreciate everyone honoring Tony Stark, and talking about him, what about Nat??
> 
> I'm just going to stick to writing stuff where they're both alive.


End file.
